The elder clansman said his blessing, but Katherine was caught up in the intensity of Cameron’s gaze on her, knowing that this marriage was far more than just protection. She felt it in his words, his touch.
She had to just show him that he deserved to be at her side more than any other man in Scotland.
“A kiss to seal their wedding vows,” the elder announced, a grin on his weathered face.
Cameron leaned forward, and Katherine’s eyes fluttered closed, disappointed as he lightly brushed his lips over hers. It was over far too quickly for her liking, but the clan cheered nevertheless.
She was now his.
Katherine didn’t remember much of the wedding feast. She and Cameron were toasted until her head was spinning from the sheer amount of whiskey and ale that she had consumed. By the time she was helped to the chamber by a group of giggling women, Katherine wasn’t sure she could feel her own body.
The women helped her out of her dress and draped her into a lacy confection that was to be a nightgown, the fabric so sheer that Katherine blushed as she looked down at her body.
“Aye, just like a blushing bride should look like!” one woman called out, patting Katherine’s cheek before they helped her into a wrapper that would cover what the nightgown didn’t. The entire chamber had been transformed into what Katherine had hoped, with fresh sheets strewn with flowers and a fire that warmed the entire chamber. A platter of food had been left, along with a few bottles of whiskey for courage, no doubt.
She couldn’t drink another drop, her heart hammering in her chest as the door opened, and Cameron stumbled through, his eyes finding hers. The warriors behind him jeered, and Katherine gulped, knowing that they were expected to consummate their union.
“Out,” Cameron snarled, sending the group out of the chamber and slamming the door shut behind him, turning the lock.
Katherine was relieved that she would not be forced into the ancient tradition of having watchers to ensure that their marriage was consummated. She clasped her hands together nervously, her eyes on her husband. What would he do first?
Should she remove her wrapper?
Should she kiss him first? “I-I dinnae know wot tae do,” she whispered.
Some of the anger left Cameron, and he sagged against the door, his hair long ago taken out of the leather tie he had worn at their wedding. His jacket was unbuttoned, showing off the fine expanse of his chest—a chest she desperately wanted to touch.
Cameron let out a ragged breath. “Go tae bed, Katherine. I am not bedding ye on this night.”
Katherine reared back as if he had struck her. “Wot?” She had been preparing all day for this night, when they would finally become husband and wife.
He waved a hand at her as he crossed the chamber, reaching for one of the bottles of whiskey. “Nay, I am not bedding ye. Ye are not ready, and neither am I.”
His words stung. After what had been a touching ceremony between them, he was refusing to give her anything else. “Nay,” she stated, untying the wrapper and letting it fall to the floor. “Ye are going tae consummate this marriage, Cameron.”
He froze, and Katherine refused to cover herself. Her entire body was trembling not from the cold but the intensity in Cameron’s eyes as he took in the sight. He wanted her. She could see it written on his face. “Please, Cameron,” she said. “Make me yers.”
“Katherine.” Her name came out like a prayer, a hint of desperation in that one singular word. “I cannae, lass.”
She didn’t believe him. “Ye dinnae want me?” she challenged, tired of him pushing her away. She had lived a lifetime of being pushed away into a corner, and having to fight her way out of it. She would not allow that to happen in her marriage as well.
He visibly swallowed before grabbing one of the bottles and taking a long drawl, his face scrunching up as he spat out the liquid, spraying it into the fire. “’Tis poisoned!”
Katherine’s bravado halted. “Wot?”
Cameron looked at the bottle, anger radiating from his body. “Someone poisoned the whiskey!”
The moment now gone, Katherine grabbed her wrapper and covered herself, shaking for an entirely different reason. “How do ye know?”
“I know mah whiskey,” he grumbled, shedding his jacket and striding over to the wardrobe. She had instructed his things to be moved into her chamber during the ceremony, and it looked like someone had complied with her wishes.
After shrugging on the tunic, he pulled out a pair of breeks. “Go tae bed, Katherine.”
Like hell she was.
“Wot are ye going tae do?” she asked as he slid the breeks under his kilt, letting the tartan fall to the floor. She saw the barest flash of his taut abdomen with the movement, the light catching the red hairs that dotted his skin, and despite the seriousness of the moment, she couldn’t help but want to touch him there too.
She wanted to touch him everywhere.
Cameron grabbed his sword and strapped it to his back, transforming into the warrior she knew so well. “I’m going tae find out who brought this whiskey tae this chamber. It was meant tae kill us both, lass.”
A shiver ran down her spine. Cameron could have died tonight had he not tasted the poison.
“It was a piss-poor job,” he continued, grabbing the bottle. “The poison wasnae masked by the whiskey. They should have chosen wine instead.”
She wasn’t safe in her own chamber. Emotion from today welled up inside her, and Katherine let out a sob. Someone wanted her dead.
“Och lass, dinnae cry.”
Katherine wrapped her arms around her waist as Cameron crossed the room and took her into his arms, holding her tenderly against his chest. “I’m vera sorry, lass.”
She clung to his tunic, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I dinnae understand! Wot am I doing wrong?”
He pulled back and gently grasped her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his angry gaze. “Nothing. Ye are doing nothing wrong. I am going tae get them, Katherine. Dinnae worry. I wilnae let them get ye.”
“But what about ye?” she asked. This was no longer about her. Someone was trying to kill the man she loved, and if something happened to Cameron, she would be heartbroken.
His gaze softened, and he pulled her against him, brushing his lips across her temple. “It will take more than a bit of poison tae take me from ye. Understand that I will never leave ye willingly.”
His words crumbled the rest of her resolve, and she wrapped her hands around his trim waist, wanting to never let him go. He cared for her. There was no doubt in her mind that he cared for her, and it was far beyond the command that Arran had given him. Arran would never have forced Cameron into marriage for Katherine’s sake.
“I must go,” he mumbled against her hair, his arms pulling away from her. “Dinnae let anyone in this chamber, Katherine. Swear tae it.”
“I swear,” she said softly, touching his forearm, the need to keep him here with her waging war in her own heart. He was a warrior first and foremost, but it didn’t mean she enjoyed it.
Cameron looked back at her, and she could see the war raging in his eyes, the need to protect her driving him from her on their wedding night. He glanced over at the bed that was waiting for them and pulled out the dagger from his waistband, slicing it over his forearm before striding over and letting a few drops stain the pristine sheet. “There,” he said, his voice gruff as he replaced the dagger in its sheath. “Ye are a married woman now. There’s the proof.”
It wasn’t the proof she wished for, but Katherine didn’t retort now, instead ripping a piece of cloth from her wrapper, wincing as the delicate cloth tore easily. Cameron stood rock still as she fastened a bandage against his forearm, tying it tightly to stop the bleeding. “I will demand that ye tell me what ye find.”
His lips lifted into a grin. “Ye already giving me orders, lass?”
Katherine rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips before backing away. “I’m telling ye tae come back ta
e me, Cameron. Dinnae go back on yer words.”
His grin faded. “I won’t. I promise.”
It wasn’t until he had quit their chamber that Katherine fell onto the bed, her body shaking. Now she had her husband to worry about.
14
Someone had tried to kill him.
Cameron braced his hand on the stone wall outside the keep as he heaved up the rest of the contents of his stomach, hoping that he had gotten all the poison out of his body. He had noted the taste immediately, which likely saved his life, but he hated to think what would have happened if Katherine had drunk the liquid first.
She would have died, and there would have been nothing he could do to save her life.
He would gladly do it again.
His stomach rolled again, but he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, moving away from the keep. Before the discovery of the tainted whiskey, she was wearing him down. That nightgown had left nothing for him to imagine, and he wanted to strip it away from her body, kissing every inch of her skin until she was moaning his name.
The words he had spoken today was how he felt about Katherine. He wanted to be the man in her eyes when she opened them every morning. He wanted to hear his name on her lips as he brought her to the peak of her pleasure, the only man who would ever touch her in that manner.
And her words. They had torn through his already battered heart. If he hadn’t been mistaken, his wife had told him that she loved him.
He didn’t know what to do with that information.
Pushing that particular thought aside for now, Cameron strode to where he had assembled Katherine’s warriors. Many of them were bleary-eyed from the celebration, and while he hated to pull them away from it, there were far more serious things to be dealt with. “Someone tried tae poison yer lady on her wedding night,” he told them, his jaw clenched tight. “Her whiskey was poisoned.”
A rumble of dissent spread amongst the warriors, and the man called Trevor, poised to become Cameron’s right-hand man now that he was married to Katherine, stepped forward, anger evident on his face. “Is she alright?”
Cameron nodded. “I was lucky enough tae take the first sip and identify the poison immediately. I want all the servants rounded up and questioned about their events. I want tae know who readied the chamber tonight, but dinnae lay a hand on any of them. Anyone who defies mah wishes will be dealt with accordingly. Is that understood?”
“Aye!” the chorus of warriors responded, pressing their fists to their chests.
Cameron looked at Trevor. “Ye are in charge. Anything ye find ye are tae report tae me and me only, understood?”
Trevor clenched his jaw. “Aye, mah laird.”
“Nay,” Cameron stated, “I am not yer laird. Yer laird is currently sheltered in her room, afraid that she cannae be protected even in her own keep. I am only the man who is fortunate enough tae be wed tae her.” It was on the verge of his tongue to declare his love for Katherine, but the warriors would likely care less.
It wouldn’t take a man much time to see that he did love Katherine anyway.
The warriors fanned out, and Cameron joined them, his thoughts on his wife, who was likely anxious to know that he could catch the persons responsible. It was now more of his duty than ever to protect her, and the thought of not being able to do so frightened him.
He didn’t want to imagine his life without Katherine in it.
Somewhere short of sunrise, Cameron stumbled upon a prone body in a field behind the keep. It was one of the servants he had seen around the keep, a young woman who had been quiet every time he had encountered her. “Do ye think it was her?” Trevor asked as Cameron knelt beside her, careful not to get the blood that had spilled out from the deep cut on her throat on his breeks. He touched her cheek.
Her body was still warm, meaning she had not been out there for long. “Nay,” he sighed, rising to his feet. “She was likely a pawn in a dangerous game.”
“Wot now?” the warrior asked, his eyes on the dead girl.
Cameron thrust a hand through his hair, the weariness and exhaustion starting to take a toll on his body. “See that the lass is delivered tae her family. Make certain that it is known she was attacked and not part of anything else. Send the warriors home. I will protect the lady for now.”
“Aye,” Trevor stated, carefully picking up the girl, heedless that her blood was staining his tunic. Cameron watched him go, knowing deep in his gut that there was only one way he could ensure Katherine’s safety.
He could send her to Ainslee. The thought twisted his heart. He did not want to be separated from her as he could not protect her if he were, but he couldn’t even protect her standing right next to her either. Arran would ensure that Katherine was well protected in his keep while Cameron could flush out the traitors in this one. There was no doubt in his mind that it was someone close, he just hadn’t been able to figure out which one it could be.
He had to push his selfish reasons aside and keep Katherine safe.
One thing was for certain—she wasn’t going to like it.
After penning a missive to Arran and sent with a rider that would wait for a response, Cameron climbed the stairs to what was now his chamber, his heart heavy. He would have to tell her, and it sickened him to do so.
But as he pushed open the chamber door, the scene before him tugged him in a different direction. Katherine was lying upon the bed, still dressed in the scrap of a nightgown he had left her in, her eyes closed, and her breathing even.
Cameron pushed the door closed softly and unstrapped his sword, placing it on the dresser before he shed his tunic, his heart racing in his chest. That was his wife lying there. The ring on her finger was proof, and why he denied himself the one woman he couldn’t live without was beyond him. She was far too good for him, that was for certain, but she was his, and he was hers.
There would never be another woman for him, and if he died so that Katherine could live, then he could consider his life well spent.
Just once, though, he wanted to feel her arms around him, holding him close as he gave her everything he could. His body, his love was all that he had to give her, and once he did that, she would have a piece of him that no one had ever had.
His heart.
Cameron had bedded numerous women in his lifetime but never one that he loved, never an innocent that wore his ring on her finger.
His palms sweating, Cameron removed his boots silently as well as the rest of the weapons he wore, clad in only his breeks as he approached the bed. She was far too lovely for the likes of him, but she had agreed to marry him regardless.
For that, he was humbled before her, a man stripped of everything—including his heart.
She stirred as he climbed into bed with her, her eyes fluttering open. “Cameron?”
“Aye, lass,” he whispered, smoothing the hair out of her eyes. “I’m sorry tae wake ye.”
She stretched. “Nay, I’m glad ye did. Did ye find out anything?”
He reached out and grasped her hip through the thin nightgown, swallowing as his calloused hand caught on the fabric. “I dinnae want tae talk aboot it.”
Her expression changed, and she sat up, her hair like a veil as it touched his chest. “Wot do ye want, Husband?”
Cameron closed his eyes briefly against the onslaught of emotions tearing into him. “I want ye, Wife. Desperately so.”
Her hand touched his chest, and he opened his eyes, seeing a hint of a smile on her lips. “’Tis aboot time, ye know,” she whispered.
He reached up and pulled her toward him, taking her lips tenderly. He didn’t know what was to happen in the coming days, but he would give her everything he had this night. She would never wonder if he cared for her.
He was about to show her just how much.
Tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, Cameron waited until her lips parted, and he swept in, tasting her. This woman was everything to him.
Katherine was the first one to br
eak their kiss, her eyes bright with want. “Let me touch ye, Husband.”
“Och, ye are going tae be the death of me,” he groaned as her hand roamed over his chest. “But do yer worst.” He could hang out a bit longer if she kept caressing his skin like that.
He watched as she traced the plains of his chest, the scars that dotted his skin. “Cameron,” she breathed as she traced a long scar along his abdomen, “wot happened here?”
He grunted. “Sword, drunken fight. I didnae move fast enough.”
She snorted as her nimble fingers drifted lower. “’Tis a surprise ye are alive.”
He echoed her sentiment. There were many times during battle that Cameron had felt as if his life could be ended, but he had escaped it each time.
Likely for this moment. In this moment, he could die and have no regrets.
When her fingers found the laces at his breeks, he stilled. “I dinnae know if ye’re ready for that.”
“Perhaps not,” she stated, pressing a kiss to his chest. “But I will have tae be eventually. Let me love ye, Cameron, just for a little while.”
Her words washed over him, and he didn’t stop her from unlacing the breeks and peeling them away. “Cameron,” she said as she took him into her hand.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, stilling her touch. “I cannae, lass.”
Katherine looked up at him, and Cameron knew that in that moment, he loved her fiercely. “I mean, I cannae get through yer touch. I’m about tae lose it mahself.”
She let go of him, sliding the nightgown over her head. Cameron forgot to breathe as he took in her naked form, from the heavy globes of her breasts down to the tuft of hair between her legs. “Ye’re killing me,” he whispered, rising to lower her on the mattress.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Then, we shall die together.”
Cameron lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, moving down her body and paying special attention to her breasts until she was arching against his touch. When his hand brushed the center of her legs, she moaned.
Highlander’s Royal Blood: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 9